


Motion Sickness

by sillyboyblue



Category: The Hitcher (1986)
Genre: M/M, Motion Sickness, Sick John, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9066346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillyboyblue/pseuds/sillyboyblue
Summary: The Hitcher but everything is the same except John Ryder has motion sickness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have emetophobia but it turns out that writing about vomit helps me overcome it so here is my attempt at "self-medicating".

"Stop the car."

John had gotten the lock pick from Jim. The kid handed it to him at the police station in front of three men who had only separated them when Jim spat in John's face. 

John's heart was beating wildly as saliva dribbled down his face. Jim's feelings appeared clear now. The kid's warm spit felt like melted gold on his fingertips.

He was clutching the small object tightly in his clammy palm when he hissed between clenched teeth :

"Stop the car."

Jim's eyes flew to John on reflex before moving back to the road.

"What's going on ?"

John was hunched over in his seat with his fists pressed against his stomach. His adam's apple was working up and down in his neck as he swallowed repeatedly the excess of saliva that filled his mouth. 

"Do it now."

Something clicked in Jim's mind and he left the desert road to park the car in the sand. John nearly ripped off his seatbelt and threw open the door to spit out a thin stream of burning bile.

Jim watched with strange fascination as John's body heaved violently until his mouth expelled the stinking remains of a prison meal. He almost felt like gagging himself when the stench reached his nostrils.

John felt a hand against his back and his muscles relaxed under the touch. Jim rubbed circles on the sick man's back until he brought up the last drops of bile in his system. John sat upright, closed the door and pressed his forehead against the cool window. 

"Feel better ?"

John closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. Jim gently took John's face in his hands to wash off the vomit from his chin with a clean handkerchief.

"I would've never thought you had motion sickness."

John leaned back in his seat and checked for any trace of vomit on his clothes. He was smiling bashfully as if he was ashamed of showing such weakness in front of Jim.

"Cops took my meds."

Jim was tempted to smile at the irony of the situation but he thought against it when John's eyes met his.

Those faded blue eyes, red and shiny, in this pale greenish face covered in beads of cold sweat.   
Jim would have never imagined that he would witness John in this state one day.

"Should we wait here a little longer ?"

John shook his head and fastened his seat belt with trembling hands. He realized that he must have dropped the lock pick while being sick because it was no longer in his palm.

"No. Let's go."


End file.
